Enough
by dudeitzemm
Summary: John doesn't think his daughter is worth the trouble to make her into a hunter and is abusing her.Caylor keeps the abuse from the boys, until Dean finds out...slightly AU sisterfic.not john freindly. rewrite.
1. Chapter 1

Caylor Winchester was an insightful kid. She knew the way reality really was, how it operated; she also knew exactly how to manipulate the way other people around her perceived that reality, the reality that she had no choice but to accept and deal with.

Reality was that there were things out there, in the dark, that you just wouldn't want to mess with. Parents always tell their kids that it's just the wind or there's nothing in the closet.

Sometimes they were right. But it's all the times that they're wrong that Caylor and her family have to intervene and that's when reality gets nasty.

The shtriga her family finally gunned down a couple nights ago back in Portland was widely accepted as a freak epidemic. Caylor couldn't help but feel thankful that they didn't know the truth. There was quite enough evil out there in the world without having to know that all the ghost stories and urban legends out there are actually true.

Unfortunately for Caylor, all the demon hunting and the seemingly endless hours of training with her two way more experienced, older brothers were not the only realities that she had to deal with and, in turn manipulate into something that wasn't happening.

It always amazed Caylor how many times she could fall without anyone there to help her back up, but she was strong and she couldn't even remember how many times she'd been able to get back up off the ground on her own, hide the bruises that served as reminders of how much of a failure she was in her fathers eyes.

She felt mildly frustrated, yet somehow relieved that she could even manipulate Sam and Dean into not knowing about what really went on every time Dad decided that I should have a "private training session" to make her improve, to make her a better hunter.

And hiding things from Sam and Dean was never an easy feat to accomplish between Dean's ever-vigilant, borderline overprotective demeanor and Sam's sympathetic need to make sure everything is always okay, stealing glances at me with those damn puppy dog eyes of his.

Caylor's mind drifted back to the one time she nearly slipped up after a particularly rough session.

_Caylor tiptoed across the dingy carpet of the motel and made sure to open the door to the bathroom as quietly as possible, cringing at the soft creak and hoping it hadn't alerted the boys. That would be the last thing she needed after the one-sided boxing match with dad. _

_Sparring was far from her specialty, being a twelve year old girl with a fourteen year old big brother and an eighteen year old bigger brother, but her dad hated the weakness and was apparently determined to beat it out of her lately._

_It must have been around ten 'o clock before the training even started and Caylor noted that it only seemed to be getting darker. Begrudgingly she mirrored her father's fighting stance, already knowing that this match was going to end very, very badly based on the angered glare in the older man's eyes, a direct opposite look from Dean's eyes earlier that day during the sparring training. _

_She held her own, until a blow to her head sent the world spinning off it's axis and she saw stars. _

_Stumbling to the ground, she could do nothing except try to go on the defensive in her disoriented state. John took it as unacceptable weakness and that only made him angrier, though Caylor wasn't exactly sure how that was possible. Kicks and punches continued to reign down on her until she had to cry out, begging for him to "please stop… I'm sorry… I'll be better…". _

_He was already out of control by now, though, proceeding to continue the abuse with the belt that he hastily took off, adrenaline and disgust completely overriding any sense of parenthood he might have ever have to begin with. Unfortunately, she was conscious through all of it and heard all of the insults. And even though, by now, she accepted them as true, they still cut like a knife every time they were repeated; that she was good enough, wasn't strong, wasn't the perfect soldier like her brothers._

_She wasn't worth the effort it was going to take to keep her alive during hunts._

_It was just after eleven 'o clock by the time she got off the ground and managed to make it to the bathroom. Sam and Dean were asleep in the motel of the month, which was odd since Dean usually went out with the newest girl and Sam had a tendency to fight tooth and nail to try and stay up past midnight. The boy never really had been a night owl like Dean._

_Caylor had studied herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door for at least twenty minutes, taking in the fresh collage of purple and blue that overlapped earlier welts and bruises covering her back and ribcage. The fresh welts across her back stood out as an angry red, contrasting the bruises in a frightening fashion, and half of them were bleeding slightly._

_At first glance, she really didn't look bad. Her clothes would cover the bruises. She had long, dark hair and emerald green eyes that matched Dean's to a tee. Although she looked a lot like Dean, she has Sam's personality, compassionate, yet naturally defiant. She also thought too much for her own good, just like Sam. Except beyond that surface there were the welts, the bruises, and the damaged psyche that she felt Dean also somewhat possessed. She was weak._

_That was the moment Caylor swore to herself that she would never let her brothers know about this. Her father already resented her for being weak and deserving of this punishment, the last thing she wanted was for Sam and Dean to hate her also._

Subtle noises and a strange sense that something was coming up beside her made Caylor wake slightly, and being a hunter, she followed her initial instincts and swiftly swung out the silver knife that she kept under her pillow, a "precaution" she had picked up from Dean.

"Whoa, kiddo, easy there." Dean interjected, laughing slightly. "So much for scaring you awake anymore, huh. You're a quick learner. It's time to go."

Caylor quickly got ready and followed her brothers out the front door. She knew the boys had spotted a Denny's the other night on the road and she knew from experience that there was no keeping the Winchester boys from all-you-can-eat breakfast food.

She kept in mind though, that today would be the day that she would prove to herself and to her family that she was good enough to be a hunter, that she was good enough to be a Winchester.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So I'm totally sorry it took three forevers to continue, but I've been really slammed with the other 67294739 things I've had to keep up with. But I like this storyline, so I shall continue. Reviews are helpful and appreciated, just fyi. Aaaaand I own nothing, sadly.

Chapter 2

Most of the day was so excruciatingly boring that Sam, Dean, and Caylor all could just about feel their brains melting. Research before hunts seemed to be even worse than actually being on a hunt in itself.

The only ones whoever managed to come up with anything were John and Sam, but this time even Sam felt like banging his head against the library desk repeatedly.

As the late July sun finally started to drift behind Arizona trees, the nervous excitement of the hunt finally started sinking in and bringing about a much different vibe than the one of boredom back at the library. They packed the weapons, salt, and gasoline into the Impala's arsenal and headed toward the abandoned state hospital to salt and burn the bones of yet another poor, dead, mad scientist.

****************************on the hunt**********************************

Broken glass crunched beneath her worn-out converse, the sound abnormally loud in the quiet hours of dusk. The current hunt was not going well and she silently wondered for the hundredth time why they never got o hunt for deer or rabbits like a normal family.

No, the Winchesters had to seek out a creature that normal people would brush off as a fictional character from a B-rated horror film; they were hunting a vengeful spirit, a very, very vengeful spirit.

Caylor lurked through the dark hallway of an abandoned asylum, her only light emitted from her shaky flashlight and the eerily bright shine of the full moon outside the seemingly endless rows of identically tall windows.

The mental hospital had been abandoned for decades, but definitely not forgotten as kids would constantly try sneaking in and trying to prove bravery, more like stupidity, by staying the night. According to legends, the spirit of a psychotic doctor would kill anyone trying to "discover his secret experiments" that he used to perform on his residing patients. Why anyone in their right minds would stick around after hearing those stories was beyond her 13-year-old mind. 'And people said the _she _was crazy,' Caylor thought, rolling her eyes.

Hunting and eliminating ghosts and monsters had been the norm in her family for as long as she could remember. Dean had even told her that their father had not even tried to save her the grief of knowing that little family secrets, but he _had_ made an attempt at keeping her brother, Sam, from knowing, at least for a little while. John had always been like that, like he never really bothered protecting her from a lot of things like that. Sam and Dean had always been the ones to really look out for her.

Caylor shook the thought of her father out of her head, it would not help her nerves at the moment to feel anger and pain toward the man while she was supposed to have her guard up looking for Doctor Hurtz's spirit. It was true though, that most of the time she was not treated the same way as her brothers were. The only exception being this; hunting, where she was expected, commanded, to be "at least" as good of a hunter as any boy out there. That fact was continually pounded into her skull, in more ways than just the figurative.

Nearing the end of the hallway, she wondered why neither she, nor her brothers, nor even John had found this damn ghost yet. Apparently nothing lately had been just a simple salt and burn!

Suddenly, it felt as if she had just leapt five feet in the air as Dean put a hand to her shoulder.

"Hey, hey, Kidd! It's just me. Damn, is this doc hard to find, or what?" She could tell Dean wasn't happy about being up all night with still no sign of Hurtz. Dean tended to get cranky when he was tired and considering none of them had gotten much sleep in the past few days, Dean was probably thinking, as Caylor was herself, that a massive supernatural takedown was in order.

"So, I vote that we ditch this place and let anybody dumb enough to try their luck with Hurtz get what they deserve!" Caylor sarcastically chimed in, though she half-heartedly felt like going with the idea. The crankiness must also be a genetic trait.

"Yeah, I second that. You know how obsessive Dad gets though".

"Ugh, do not even talk to me about Dad right now, Dean. He's just about on my last nerve." Caylor bit out as she sped up toward the door at the end of the hall.

The only thing that Caylor could remember happening next were loud crashes, her brother yelling for her to "look out!" , and a lot of flames.

Apparently John had finally found the old doc's remains to salt and burn, and just in time, too. Everything had happened in such a blur, but one thing that both Caylor and Dean had heard perfectly clearly was their father's deadly low tone when he told Caylor to follow him, that they needed to "discuss the importance of paying attention during a hunt". For all Dean knew, it was just going to be another shouting match, like it always was with their father and Sam. Caylor, though, knew better than to believe that it would be that simple, especially at the first moment she would be left alone with John at the hotel.

Keeping up the act for her brothers, though, she followed behind silently into the next room, her head toward the old, dirty asylum floor.


End file.
